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Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Mindblowing May: Day Three! *updated*

Oh right. I have another entrance on Sunday. Just brilliant, isn't it? FML. Luckily I have something that could possibly cheer me up. And that is. . . . yeah you guessed it right. . . MINDBLOWING MAY DAY THREE! =D

The inspiration for today is :

Beautiful BEAUTIFUL song :)

Should be enough to inspire you, eh? :)You can choose to figure out something from the entire song OR pick up just a few/a single line and write about it :)

You can use this as a stimulus and write a post. OR click a picture. OR sing about it[Don't forget to upload the audio,okay? =P] Do ANYTHING. Just be inspired :)And don't worry about joining in the middle of the month. You can join whenever you want :)Mail your bloglinks to me at hellotheremachas@gmail.comI'll be updating this post by the end of the day with the bloglinks of the people who joined me, as well as my own post.Love.Ruuuuuu.

MY POST:

It’s funny how a mere garden chair can witness more than any human, alive or dead. Being a man who appreciated natural beauty more than anyone else, my grandfather bought this 3 feet tall piece of metal just before my father was born. It was here that he often sat in silence and watched the sun drowning in the black sea of darkness. It was here that my father heard his first bed time story, and where I heard mine. And it was here that you and I first shook hands, at the age of four.

No wonder we hit it off immediately, for I was a tomboy in every sense of the word, and you were, well, just another average boy. It’s funny how our friendship constantly revolved around this very garden chair. At the age of four, we ran in circles around it for hours, and the courtyard came alive with the sound of our laughter. At the age of eight, we finished each other’s homework, for I loathed maths, and you just couldn’t stand Science. At fourteen you practiced your “proposal speech” for that cute girl from Chem class with me, and at seventeen, we smoked our very first cigarette. Right here, on this garden chair.

I’d be lying if I said that sitting right here, at twenty one, I never EVER wished even for once that you’d pull me close and kiss me. But that was just a fleeting feeling, for you were my best[est] friend ever, and though neither of us ever mentioned that out loud, both of knew for a fact that we were nothing without each other, and that was something we simply could not afford to lose to something as trivial as a relationship.

And as I walked down memory lane, smiling at all the mental images, frowning at a few, I eventually reached the one I had been trying to bury under layers of pain and regret in my head. Everything was where it had always been. The sunset still painted the courtyard in beautiful shades of orange and red, the chair still stood where it always had, but we were twenty five. And I had something to say to you.

“. . . so he told me he was infected and I panicked. The first thing I did was visit Dr. Lall. I just received the reports.” “And?” “Positive”. That was the last thing either of us said that night. You’d expect your best friend of twenty years to scream at you for being the most irresponsible, careless moron ever. Maybe if he’s the emotional type, you’d expect him to cry. Hell, I even expected you to slap me across the face. What I didn’t expect you to do was sit in silence for about an hour, and then walk off without even saying a word. And if you think I didn’t notice the repulsed look on your face under the shadows, or the way you tried to inconspicuously increase the distance between us, you’re highly mistaken. I’d felt pain, disappointment, undergone heartbreak. But THIS was sheer agony. That was the last time I ever saw, or heard of you.

Yes, I wish you would have called just once, or visited me during the worst part of my treatment. I wish that out of the million flowers that adorned my hospital room, just one had your name written on it with a simple “Get well soon”. And though I knew there was no hope, those words in that horrible scrawl of yours would have atleast helped me fight back. But you were gone for good, and that was enough to pull me down.

Sitting here today, on the very garden chair we shook hands in front of at the age of four, I’m at peace. I may or may not live through this year, but I’m glad I no longer wish you were here. I’m glad you’re no longer around, that you’re just somebody that I used to know.

It's unfortunate how even the educated folk are at times equally ignorant as the illiterate. HIV is NOT transmitted through touching, hugging,sitting next to each other etc. Educate yourselves about this significant issue TODAY.

I love this post Chinkan :)I get all socially aware when it comes to HIV because of all the work i did in school over this very topic.Anyway. I love how this is written. Damn. I wish i could write stuff like this :)